“You may or may not be aware that my cousin employs a boy of about sixteen, whom, as I think, she engaged rather rashly, without knowing anything of his antecedents.  He assists her in her writing and accounts—­in fact, is a sort of secretary.

“His name is Benjamin Barclay, is it not?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know anything of his habits?”

“He is very plausible.  In fact, I think his appearance is in his favor; but I think he is sly.  Still water, you know, runs deep.”

Mr. Lynx bowed assent.

“I was disposed,” proceeded Mrs. Hill artfully, “to think well of the boy, and to approve my cousin’s selection, until last week he was seen leaving a well-known gambling house in Thirty-first Street.”

“Indeed!  That is certainly suspicious.”

“Is it not?”

“Who saw him leaving the gambling house, Mrs. Hill?”

“My son, Conrad.”

“Curious that he should have been near at the time!”

“He was taking a walk.  He generally goes out in the evening.”

“Of course your son would not visit such a place?”

“Certainly not,” answered Mrs. Hill, looking offended at the suggestion.

“By the way, are the two boys intimate?  Do they seem to like each other?”

“My Conrad always treats the other boy well, out of common politeness, but I don’t think he likes him very well.”

“Is your son in any situation?”

“He is now.”

“Was he at the time this Benjamin was engaged by Mrs. Hamilton?”

“No.”

“Rather singular that she did not employ your son, instead of seeking out a stranger, isn’t it?”

“Now that you mention it, I confess that I did feel hurt at the slight to my boy.  However, I don’t wish to interfere with Cousin Hamilton, or obtrude my son upon her.”

“Strong jealousy there!” thought the detective.

“So you think this Ben Barclay may have taken the glass?” he said inquiringly.

“I do.  Since he visits gambling houses, he doubtless squanders money, and can find a market for more than he can honestly earn.”

“As you say, gambling often leads to dishonesty.  Does Mrs. Hamilton know that her protege visited a gambling house?”

“Yes.”

“Mentioned it to him, I suppose?”

“Yes.”

“Of course, he denied it?”

“No; he admitted it, but said he received a letter from a stranger appointing to meet him there.  It is rather curious that he couldn’t show the letter, however.  He pretended he had lost it.”

“Did Mrs. Hamilton believe him?”

“I don’t know.  I think not, for, though she has not discharged him, she treats him very coldly.”

“Have you any further information to give me?”

“No.  I hope this will be of some service to you.”

“I think it will.  Thank you, and good-afternoon.”